


Anniversary Gift

by beetle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:18:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/pseuds/beetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for bloodclaim's anniversary. The prompt was . . . "anniversary." Five hundred words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary Gift

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own, so don't sue.  
> Notes/Spoilers/Warnings: None that I can think of.

He rattles his chains and the bed to test their strength.  
  
  
Magically reinforced iron. He’s not going anywhere.   
  
  
Those lovely, big, dark eyes beg me. “Please, don’t do this.”  
  
  
I brush his hair back from his face, reminded of all those times in the Basement of Doom, watching him sleep and give off pheromones like a bitch in heat. Wanting to bury my face in that dark, soft hair as I buried my cock in his warm, young body. Wanting to come with his scent in my nostrils -  
  
  
Bugger. Resolve ain’t the only thing being hardened.  
  
  
“You can’t take this back, Spike!” His eyes seek mine out, but I can’t look at him, yet. He knows I understand  _perfectly_  what I’m doing.  
  
  
“If you do this--I’m gone! There’s no more  _me_ , just--some  _thing_  that looks like me, but isn’t!”  
  
  
“Trust me, pet.”  
  
  
“I fucking hate you.”  
  
  
 _Ouch_.   
  
  
“Doin’ you a service, love. As beautiful as you are like this--” chains included, my God, he’s so very beautiful. “I can make you even more beautiful.”  
  
  
“I don’t wanna be beautiful, Spike. I just wanna be yours.” Tears rolling down his face. Can’t see ‘em, since I’m not looking at him, but I can smell ‘em.   
  
  
“You  _are_  mine, pet. And you’ll be more mine after this.”  
  
  
He’s really thrashing, now. He smells like fear-blood-anger-desire. Leave it to my boy to be turned on even by this.   
  
  
I love him so much it hurts.  
  
  
I can't help leaning down to kiss him, his lips bittersweet under mine. He doesn’t try to bite or fight me, he just rattles his chains in frustration and tries to wrap his arms around me. I’ve got my hand down his pants when the sorceress clears her throat discreetly.  
  
  
Impatient bints. Always interrupting a bloke in the middle of something.  
  
  
“You waitin’ for a bloody invitation, love? Start, already!” One last kiss and squeeze and I’m backing away from the bed, my boy’s helpless eyes following me. And it hurts. I’ll be the first to admit it. He’s been loyal and brave and brutal.   
  
  
This really is a shit way to reward that, even for a vampire.  
  
  
The sorceress steps forward pulling a small, glowing orb from her robes. Took me a year to save up enough dosh for this. Exactly one year of waiting, hurting and regretting. But that’s over, now.  
  
  
Less than a minute after the spell’s begun, something kindles in those helpless, hating, empty, dark eyes: pain. Regret. Remorse. Horror.  
  
  
A  _soul._  
  
  
Xander’s soul.  
  
  
Even though it’s not wise, I go to the bed, tears in my own eyes as I lean down to offer what cold comfort a Sire can give his Childe at a moment like this.  
  
  
“Happy Anniversary, my love,” I whisper into his hair.   
  
  
The sweetest sound I’ve ever heard is his despairing, horrified screams, drifting up into the night. 


End file.
